Tiny Dancer
by Evenbe
Summary: Sex was something with steps and rules that Santana played carefully by. It was all getting a bit boring. Until Brittany came along and messed all that up.


**Disclaimer: Characters are not mine, but belong to Ryan Murphy and Fox. I'm merely borrowing them.**

**Just another little story to fill in the blank spaces that Glee left out of Brittany and Santana's plotline. I'm starting to enjoy those two the more I write about them. This takes place somewhere in season 2. Before their conversation about feelings. I also reference my other story Back to the Start for a moment. I'm breaking all the rules of convention and going carazay. Just like Glee.**

* * *

In the two years she had been experiencing sex, Santana had treated it as a chore. It was always mechanical. There was a series of steps that she dutifully followed to get from point A to point O. Touch lips, suck tongue, undress, spread legs, wait for it to end, hope he didn't push her head down between his legs, quickly redress and leave bedroom/bathroom/supply closet/locker room with as little conversation as possible.

Of course there had been elements she had enjoyed. The rush of heat through her body if a tongue happened to graze that part on her shoulder that made her instantly wet between the legs. The game of it all. The anticipation. Even the nudity was somehow thrilling no matter how little she cared what the guy looked like naked. Her eyes rarely traveled south of a boy's pectorals, but the smooth skin surrounding erect nipples begged to be caressed by her skilled hands.

Her favorite part, the thing that occasionally actually got her off with hardly a touch to the important parts, was the power she held over them. When the muscled jocks who spent half of their day flexing in front of each other and struggling in vain to assert dominance in huddled masses looked her way during algebra all she had to do was gracefully cross one leg over the other, careful to spread her thighs just far enough apart to hint at the secrets the underside of her panties caressed and all poise and bravado would slip away like a veil. That's when she felt the rush. When the blonde haired blue eyed linebacker with ripped biceps would practically drool onto his homework assignment crumpled in one hand and then sweep eyes up to meet hers only to blush like a little boy caught with his hand down his pants and quickly face forward, smoothing the smashed homework assignment down before glancing back out of the corner of his eye.

That was always before those guys had gotten any. She loved the naïve virginal football jocks the best. Even though they were terrible at touching her the way she liked, all frantic puppy tongues and unrestrained thrusts, they were the only ones she could still make blush. Once they had been inside her they carried an entirely new sense of self-satisfaction that she inwardly scoffed at because rarely was it legitimately earned.

When the new sophomore fullback came to school the Monday after succeeding in shoving his face between her legs for a few minutes and receiving a handjob in return he had sauntered through the wide double doors of the building with his shaggy haired head held a little higher, shoulders back, swagger in his step and Santana had nearly cackled at his false sense of accomplishment. The moment his brown eyes had swept over her body, starting at her sneakered toes and hovering nearly a minute at the swell of her breasts beneath her red and white cheer uniform before meeting her gaze and actually _winking_ at her, she lost it and laughed loud and harsh, the sound slamming off of the metal lockers and ringing somewhere in the center of a bustle of students. She hadn't felt bad about the slight dip his shoulders had slumped into or his confused expression. Once they knew what to expect from her, she was bored with them.

The only boy she kept going back to was Puck. He had never blushed from her advances. She knew he was experienced with older women before they had ever made out and that had intrigued her. So far he was the only boy who had brought her to orgasm with his tongue, had actually asked how she wanted him to touch her, and had been soft and gentle before attempting to be rough. Even with all his insecurities that he masked behind his tough guy attitude, his sexual bravado was definitely well-earned. The smirk on his face actually occasionally turned her on slightly because he knew how to play the game. She saw him as her equal. He was a graceful dancer. At least between the sheets.

But even with Puck, there was still the same sense of routine. The steps sometimes happened out of order but she still kept a kind of check list open in the back of her mind. Santana thought that's what sex was. She didn't understand why her horny teenage peers spent all their time thinking and planning and obsessing over what was becoming quickly to her a bore. Frankly, she greatly preferred her own hand.

That was all before the night Brittany changed her expectations of sex and succeeded in flopping Santana on her uniform skirted ass and turning her world rightside up.

* * *

_Brittany giggles against Santana's mouth and before she can register anything, their lips are pressing together. Brittany's lips are soft and wet and Santana can feel heat emanating from her cheeks. She smells apricots and mint and beer and her breath hitches in her throat before rushing out her nose._

Santana had lost herself in that moment. Her analytical brain had been wiped clean of information like what steps to take next, where to touch, when to tug at clothes.

_There's heat everywhere now and gasps and pants fill the room and echo off tile and a hand is slipping under her skirt and running along her thigh. She can feel a tightening happening underneath the lips between her legs and it sets her on fire. She leans back against the sink and tugs Brittany closer. Needing her closer._

Before they had been interrupted and Santana had halted everything with the jarring swipe of a light switch and a cowardly exit her skin had been so sensitive she thought she might break apart and slide to the ground in a pile of goo. That was not what she was used to when she thought of sex. And it was beginning to mess with her own sense of self.

* * *

"What do you want to do tonight?" It was a Friday night and Brittany was sprawled out on her own bed, one hand behind her head the other scratching at her stomach, legs stretched long and lazy against the cotton candy pink bedspread. Santana caught herself staring at the expanse of smooth thigh exposed by Brittany's slightly askew grey cotton shorts. She shifted her gaze further up only to be distracted by the dip of Brittany's belly button that had been exposed from her scratching over the tiny blue tank top that barely covered her stomach or much else for that matter. When she finally looked into Brittany's face, Brittany's head was titled to the side, watching her curiously.

Santana blushed and looked down before shrugging in what she hoped was a casual manner but she could sense as much as see Brittany's sly smile out of the corner of her eye. Brittany rolled forward, tucking her legs underneath herself and crawled to the edge of the bed on her hands and knees. She then slumped down onto her belly, keeping her torso upright with her elbows and coyly rested her chin on her folded knuckles.

When Santana took a deep breath and dared to look again, Brittany was lying there on her bed patiently waiting for her to make some sort of move. Santana felt her stomach drop and her face heat up even more. This was still new to her and a part of her hated it. Hated the way Brittany made her feel ways that no boy ever had and she was secretly beginning to suspect never would.

"Well?" Brittany broke into her thoughts, her voice just above a whisper and slightly raspy, "Want to just stay in?"

Santana came into sharper realization of her own body when Brittany's voice sent a tingle down her spine and she realized she was standing stiff and uncomfortably, arms crossed across her chest, holding tightly as if she could keep her threads from unraveling. The rest of her body wasn't cooperating with that plan.

Santana coughed and Brittany raised an eyebrow.

"We could... you know," Brittany smiled brightly, unaware somehow of Santana's extreme discomfort or possibly mistaking it for shyness. She dropped her eyes for a moment and Santana followed the delicate swoop of her eyelashes resting for a moment against pale rosy cheeks before lifting into a droopy eyed glance that took Santana's breath away. "We could have some alone time."

_Alone time._ It had become their little secret code. Santana had started it hoping Brittany would equate being alone with secrecy and realize that it wasn't okay to talk about what they did together with anyone anymore. The memories the phrase dragged forward in her mind sent a jolt between Santana's legs and like a lightning bolt she felt her arousal hit her and begin to smolder. Only Brittany had ever caused that reaction in her so quickly.

She moaned deep in her throat in response and practically fell to her knees on the floor in front of Brittany's bed and pulled Brittany's head between her hands, smashing their lips together in a hungry kiss. With her dancer's grace Brittany lifted herself up to her knees and tugged Santana onto the bed in front of her, wrapping her arms tightly around Santana's waist. Santana let herself be pulled into Brittany's lap, her legs straddling Brittany's bent thighs. Santana broke away from Brittany's mouth to moan again when Brittany reached her hands down to cup her ass and tug her closer.

For a moment Santana panicked at her enjoyment of Brittany's forcefulness. She was supposed to be in control. With guys, she always was. In a moment of desperation to keep herself in check she grabbed Brittany's head and pulled it away from where it was attached to the sensitive part of Santana's neck and with a hand on either side of Brittany's face, she brought their lips close together, a vibrating energy the only thing linking them yet almost as intense as full contact, their breath mingling and sweet between them.

"This is our secret, right Brit? Just between us?" Her voice wasn't as strong as she had tried to make it, sounding as if it had been dragged along gravel deep in her throat. Brittany's eyes registered confusion and Santana took the mild hurt she caught in the depths of that look and pushed it deep into the blank parts of her brain she locked away every night before going to sleep. It was locked but not completely washed away and remnants would trickle into her daily routine at odd moments like stretching for cheerleader practice or driving to school. Brittany's presence invaded both of those activities. It seemed she was always right there, distracting and beautiful.

"Yeah, whatever you want Santana," Brittany said before staring at her in that present, searching way that made Santana believe Brittany could see right into her soul. Brittany's gaze was asking her silently why. In Brittany's universe there was nothing wrong with their caresses. She wanted to smirk at Brittany's childlike vision of the world that didn't understand or maybe just didn't care about the hate that existed for what they were and how they wanted to touch each other, care for each other, but she couldn't find that snarky place in herself with Brittany's arms wrapped so intimately around her. She wanted it for herself. She wanted to be in that place Brittany inhabited so badly she suddenly crashed their lips together, tongue stretching deep into Brittany's surprised mouth, arms grasping, tugging closer, burrowing herself into the warm cavern of Brittany's embrace as if she could crawl right into Brittany and see everything fresh through Brittany's eyes.

Her desire to control the situation was slipping and she let go completely when Brittany reached down and tugged Santana's t-shirt over her head and dragged her hand down her bare back, fingers catching in the fabric of her bra and deftly snapping it open. Santana gasped out a hiss when Brittany's hands reached around to her front and without removing the bra cradled Santana's breasts in her hands, a finger and thumb quickly finding her right nipple and rolling it teasingly until Santana squirmed and tossed her head back with a moan. She had to catch herself on her hands now that both of Brittany's were occupied and her entire body arched gracelessly towards Brittany's touch. Brittany took the opportunity of Santana's exposed neck to suck under Santana's jaw line, creating an electrical storm beneath Santana's skin that hit every nerve in her body.

When Santana lifted her head and caught Brittany's eyes, Brittany grinned wide and open before capturing her lips in a heated kiss. Santana slipped out of Brittany's lap and keeping contact with her mouth pulled her down on top of her as she lay against the pillows at the top of the bed. They were soon naked and pressed together, groaning inelegantly and reaching simultaneously towards each other's wetness. Santana quickly realized that wouldn't work. She was so distracted by the heat emanating between Brittany's thighs she couldn't register her own pleasure so she acquiesced to Brittany's touch, reaching her arms around Brittany's neck and riding her own pleasure out. Brittany's mouth instantly found that place on Santana's shoulder that sunk her more deeply into the experience and made her mind go hazy with sensation.

Brittany was the best dancer Santana had ever met and she moved just as beautifully above her naked stretched out form as she did on a stage. Her hips undulated with her thrusts, her fingers working magic in and out and fingers dancing just as elegantly as the rest of her body, her thumb strumming a beat over Santana's clit, sensing when Santana was close and keeping her rhythm steady until Santana came loudly and intensely. Her body stretched and arched for a tense moment before release so sweet she wanted to cradle the moment in the palms of her hands, turn it into liquid and bottle it to take it with her like an elixir. The moment expanded then shrank again once, twice, three times, and then she was in her body so fully suddenly with Brittany's breath against her neck that her emotions couldn't be held in any longer and she let go with a sob, tears welling like ponds that didn't last long before spilling in rivers down her flushed cheeks.

Brittany pulled her fingers out from inside Santana and rested against her elbow with one arm while the other was wiped against the bedspread at her side and then brought up to cradle Santana's cheek tenderly. She kissed Santana's tears away before the scent of herself on Brittany's hand caused Santana to pull her emotions back in check, her hands coming up clumsily to brush under her eyes, breathing in a quick shaky snuffle and roughly flipping Brittany onto her back. Brittany's eyes widened in surprise and that was all Santana saw before licking across her jaw, her lips finding a spot beneath her ear she knew turned Brittany to jelly. Brittany groaned but reached up and pulled Santana back by her arms.

"Wait," Brittany panted. Santana looked into Brittany's face. She wasn't letting Santana's emotional outburst go so Santana took a second to breathe deeply before shoving it all down deeper and turning on her bedroom eyes full force.

"What's the problem?" Santana asked innocently. Brittany's eyebrows furrowed. She seemed near anger for a moment. Anger was the rarest Brittany emotion, and it nearly startled Santana's walls back down.

"You never tell me why you cry like that. Can't we just talk for a minute?" Her frustration was at it's peak and Santana hoped she knew how to play this. She switched on her husky voice and sultry eyes.

"Why talk, baby? Don't you want me to make you feel good? It's your turn." Santana grinned mischievously and started to crawl down Brittany's body. She felt Brittany tense, however, and paused in her journey South.

"Wait, Santana." Brittany's tone was a warning. Santana looked back up at Brittany and her face was quickly captured between Brittany's hands. "I don't recognize you when you talk like that. I don't like it."

Santana's heart ached at Brittany's words. She realized suddenly she had employed one of her ugliest sex tricks. It always shut up the guys. But this was Brittany. Her best friend. Her... she didn't know what Brittany really was to her she just knew it terrified her to think about it too much. And now all she really wanted to do was hold Brittany tight and make her feel good but she'd possibly fucked up her chance of doing that any time soon.

She refused to meet Brittany's eyes but sighed deeply and sunk down fully on top of her, her body stretched between Brittany's thighs, her face pressing close to Brittany's neck, her skin warm and tingly everywhere they touched.

"I'm fine, really. I just get weepy when I orgasm I've told you that before." The part she had left out was that it only happened with Brittany.

She could practically feel Brittany's eyebrows come close together, drawn into a sharp angle, knowing Brittany was deep in thought. "I just don't get it. When I orgasm I just want to laugh because everything feels so good. Don't I make you feel good?"

_Fuck_, Santana couldn't help thinking. She felt that tug at her heart again. She wasn't built for this. She pulled back and stared carefully into Brittany's face.

"Yeah of course you make me feel good. You make me feel awesome. Everyone loves an orgasm," Santana smiled, hoping Brittany wouldn't notice the sadness behind her eyes. But it was Brittany. Of course she did. She was a pro at the emotional crap. Her eyebrows drew together again, but a small smile was tugging the right corner of her lips up. Santana decided to milk that small smile for all she could. "I mean an orgasm is like a fucking explosion of good things, right? I don't know, some people cry. It's like a release of stuff. And sometimes it comes out like crying."

"Like a unicorn sliding down a rainbow," Brittany said dreamily.

Santana giggled, caught off guard. "What?"

"It's like so beautiful, but also kind of strange and like something that's not really happening but it's also the most real thing to happen, like, ever," Brittany was lost in a reverie now and Santana wasn't about to stop her train of thought so she simply watched, mouth agape, as Brittany tracked this train of thought to its completion.

"And a unicorn is like this not real thing. I think. Maybe it's a real thing I don't know, but a rainbow is definitely real I saw one in the sky once when it rained and it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen and I almost cried it was so magical. So I can understand why you would cry if your orgasm was like a unicorn sliding down a rainbow because that would probably make me cry. But for some reason I laugh instead. Probably because the unicorn is singing a song about raindrops and wearing a funny hat."

Santana erupted into giggles at that and let herself fall onto Brittany again. She felt Brittany shake once with confused laughter before whining, "What? I'm serious."

"I'm sorry, sweetie, that's just too adorable." Santana realized almost instantly she regretted the endearment leaving her lips and clenched her eyes shut. She lay still for a moment. Brittany shifted below her and wrapped her arms around Brittany's waist gently. Santana suddenly became sharply aware of the wetness between Brittany's legs that had gone ignored for far too long. She pulled herself up and rolled her hips firmly against Brittany, their pussies contacting stickily. Warmth spread through her again at Brittany's moan.

She dipped her mouth to Brittany's ear to whisper, "Your turn to see rainbows and unicorns," before kissing down Brittany's body.

* * *

The nights always ended the same way. Santana rose from bed after Brittany drifted off, untangled herself from the sheets and the scents of their mingled sweetness, and dressed carefully. She tiptoed and held her breath in her urgency to stay silent which brought attention to her own heartbeat, amplified like a stereo in her brain. She wished it wouldn't. She didn't want to feel her heart in these moments. She wanted to freeze it in time, leave it under the folds of Brittany's pillow for Brittany to find in the morning and do with it what she pleased. She knew Brittany would take gentle sweet care of it. But she didn't trust herself with either of their hearts. And she didn't need to be reminded of that now.

Not when Brittany's face was relaxed in sleep, her lips parted, staying stubbornly red from the kisses Santana could still feel tingling on her own skin. Brittany oddly looked older in sleep. The usual confused furrow of her brow was stretched smooth and she appeared wiser somehow, lost in her own dreams probably in a world that made sense to her. Possibly they were dreams filled with dense safe forests full of unicorns and wizards and ballerinas. Santana imagined it was a peaceful place and she was filled with that desire again to jump inside Brittany's brain and take up residence.

But right now Santana had to fill her brain with thoughts of driving home, showering off the reminders of what happened in Brittany's room that night, and trying to fall asleep in her own cold bed. She pulled on her shoes and turned to take one last look at Brittany in the moonlight. Her forehead was wrinkled again beneath her golden hair and Santana hoped she wasn't nightmaring evil witches or violent masked burglars. She fought the urge to sink back into bed with her, feeling that even if she could slip into Brittany's dream, she'd be powerless against the darkness she might find there. Her own dark thoughts overpowered everything she did and Santana knew it would be Brittany who could light their way.

She slipped out of Brittany's bedroom door and each soft step she took away from Brittany sunk her heart even deeper in her chest into that safe locked box made of metal and stone. She hoped that by the time she got home she'd be able to throw away the key.


End file.
